


now, once and for all

by Erina



Series: squish babies chronicles [1]
Category: Fire Emblem: If | Fire Emblem: Fates
Genre: Angst, M/M, spoilers for nohr route and revelation supports, this was supposed to be a leon/takumi fic but it bloomed to full on takumi angst i cry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-29
Updated: 2016-03-29
Packaged: 2018-05-29 20:26:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6392299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Erina/pseuds/Erina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>And looking at the two interact, Takumi realizes that he perhaps is seeing Prince Takumi of Hoshido for the first time. Takumi without his insecurities and anger issues and sadness and blind thirst for revenge. He sees Takumi in another world, of what could have been if there was no war, if there was no hatred, if there was no evil.</p><p>“If you weren’t at opposite sides of the war,” he remembers Corrin saying in Izumo. “I think you could’ve been great friends.”</p><p>Story follows Takumi through the Conquest route as he tries to sort out his life, feelings and dreams.</p>
            </blockquote>





	now, once and for all

**Author's Note:**

> Helloooo I haven't written in a long time so I apologize if this fic is really choppy and hard to read. I finished Conquest a couple weeks or so ago and Revelation maybe last week, and I am just so full of feelings right now so I decided to write after like... four years lol. I'm really sad that Takumi gets so much crap from the fandom and that poor boy just needs a hug tbh. Also, this began as a Leon/Takumi fic but it kind of changed to just being a Takumi character study with bits of Leon thrown in, but I will definitely write a Leon/Takumi fic one of these days. But yeah, the Leon parts may seem a bit weird, but I couldn't bring myself to trash them.
> 
> Also I'm sorry but I use the name Leon. Personal preference unfortunately.
> 
> (spoilers for Conquest route as well as a certain Revelation support conversation)  
> (also totally unbetaed, as you can probably tell)  
>   
> tldr: I am a mess and this fic is a mess

_“I can already tell that there will be trouble between me and this guy.”_

* * *

 

Takumi grits his teeth as he lets another arrow fly. It whizzes through the air, hitting one ring outside of the center. His fingers burned, calloused and raw, but he notched another arrow. After hours of continuous practice, he was getting closer to the center, but it wasn’t enough.

It never seemed to be enough.

* * *

_“Ah, so if it isn’t Prince Leon of Nohr!”_

_“And you must be Prince Takumi of Hoshido. I’m pleased to make your acquaintance.”_

_“Ha!”_

* * *

He had always been a rather problematic child. Hiding in the extraordinarily large shadow of his big brother, Takumi always felt as if he was playing catchup. For as long as he could remember, he was always being compared to Ryouma, to the crown prince’s broad back that was always several steps ahead of him.

He tried everything. He tried to be like his big brother, but no one noticed him behind that mountain of greatness. He tried instead to be louder and more vocal, but then he got frowned upon for seeking attention. He tried to become the strategist of the family, but got scolded for being too naïve and childish to participate in adult war councils.

He tried picking up a sword, but he never won. He tried picking up a bow, but got called useless for only being able to shoot things from afar rather than charge proudly on the front lines, as a model prince should. He tried leaving his hair short, but he was accused of being disrespectful to Hoshidan tradition. He tried growing his hair out, but then he got laughed at for being too feminine.

He tried everything, but it never seemed to be enough.

* * *

_“We might as well get this out of the way. You and I are not going to be friends.”_

_“What a coincidence! I was just thinking the same thing.”_

* * *

He had problems making friends as a child. His royal status meant that everyone treaded on thin ice around him, as if one wrong move could cast the whole country against them. He was rarely allowed to meet kids around his age; his lessons were all held in the castle, his training overlooked by his older brother.

And even if he did get to meet some of the children around the marketplace, they learned to steer clear of him. “ _Beware_ ,” they always spoke in hushed whispers. “ _Beware of the spoiled royal prince who knows nothing of hardship. Beware of the boy who screams when things don’t go his way.”_

He never visited the marketplace again after that.

He remembers late nights, crying silently in his bed, his knees tucked up to his face. He remembers the creak of the door as it opens, his mother coming in and wrapping her gentle arms around his small, shaking body. He remembers the warm body encasing his own, smelling slightly of lilacs. He remembers her soft black hair, her warm eyes, her kind soul.

He remembers the quietness during those nights, his mother empathizing and soothing him with her presence rather than with clichéd phrases or superficial words. He remembers her warmth, seeping in through his back, his arms, his _heart_. And he’s suddenly not alone anymore.

He remembers her smile when he runs up to her, excited, and tells her that he has made a new friend.

And that’s why, years later, when these strange thoughts of a foreign prince starts to invade his mind, Takumi is almost completely sure that it is just his brain taking pity on him, conjuring this imaginary friend to help him appease this lonely feeling within himself.

* * *

_“Of course you were. You have such an arrogant attitude and—”_

_“Me?! I’m not the one going around patronizing everybody!”_

* * *

Hinoka used to be patronizing. She’d lecture all of them daily, even when she wasn’t necessarily correct. Veggies are to be eaten. Court etiquette lessons cannot ever be skipped. I’m your big sister, so you have to listen to me. Stuff like that. But he knew she meant well, so he generally thought of her as a warm hearted, albeit rather stern and competitive, sister.

He remembers the races across the courtyard, and the scolding that followed right after. He remembers being smacked on the head by her during a meeting when he dozed off. He remembers soft, but calloused hands wrapping up his knee after he tripped. He remembers a gentle finger wiping away his tears, and a warm body enveloping his own.

He remembers the kind-hearted Princess Hinoka of Hoshido.

But that all changed after Corrin was taken.

They got Azura soon after, but that wasn’t the same. Trading a sister for a sister didn’t patch up the broken fragments the family had become. His mother stopped smiling so often. She still smiled for her country, but behind closed doors she wept. His brother began to overwork him for the sake of the kingdom, shutting off himself from his siblings and sealing his human emotions. War, he said, had no use for cowards.

And his sister, his second mother, became obsessed with Corrin.

It wasn’t like they weren’t close before. The two of them often sat in the gardens during warm afternoons, whispering and giggling to each other. When Takumi had tried to go over, Hinoka had shooed him away, telling him that it wasn’t very gentleman-like to listen in on the conversations of ladies.

But Hinoka’s change had been beyond what he had expected from a sibling bond. Hinoka, who had been a kind yet strong individual, became weaker. She gained strength as a warrior, of course, as she dived headfirst into her training. But a part of her humanity died that day they lost two members of their family, her soul as empty as Corrin’s now vacant room. She pushed forward almost compulsively, obsessing over this concept of a sister that had been lost of her years ago.

It was through her that Takumi learned that all Nohrians were evil. Not through the words that came through her mouth. Not through her daily Pegasus flies or lance jabs. Not through her military prowess or her unwavering resolve.

Rather, it was through the shattered soul of the girl who once used to be his family. Of a girl who had forgotten how to be a sister, and perhaps even a strong-willed warrior.

 _“Nohrian scum”_ she had told him once, so that’s what they became. _Nohrian scum. Nohrian scum. Nohrian scum._ It played through his head, like a broken record. As if repeating the phrase would make the pain go away, as if the insult would make them all drop dead, as if the words could somehow mend their broken family.

Watching his sister tear herself apart over Corrin (because Takumi had noticed long ago that Hinoka’s obsession stemmed from her misconstrued idea of a sister rather than Corrin herself), Takumi wondered if he would have reacted the same if his mother, or Ryouma, or Hinoka, had been taken. Would he swear vengeance and jump into Nohrian territory? Would he fanatically train himself, pushing the limits of his own body, until he could become strong, strong, _stronger_? Would he be like Hinoka, chasing the shadow of a living ghost? Would he be like Ryouma, sealing away his humanity for the benefit of others?

Every day, he laid awake at night, staring up at the ceiling, unable to deal with his nightmares. And every day, he wondered what would have happened if he had been taken instead.

* * *

_“You’re the jerk!”_

_“Is that the best you can do? You sound like a whiny, little brat. Just as expected.”_

* * *

He was always the brat of the family. Even after Sakura was born, they never stopped looking at him as the spoiled baby, the whiny little brother.

That’s because Sakura was kind, a far too gentle soul in war. During the times of cruelty, deception and bloodshed, she was a beacon of light and hope, possessing a certain warmth to her that everyone wanted to be around. Even though she herself was much too shy for the general public, she had this charm that made people flock around her.

And once again, Takumi was alone, left to the side as one of his siblings stole all of the attention. The feeling of envy crawling up his throat, leaving a searing hot pain as it bubbled up, was no stranger to him, but he always pushed it down. These people were his family. The people he grew up with, who held him when he was but a little child, who taught him the ways of the world. It was incredibly petty, during wartime, to whine about the lack of attention. After all, even though they didn’t look at him, he always looked at them. And that was enough.

But Sakura was different. Perhaps it was because she wasn’t around when Corrin had been taken, or perhaps it was because her gentle heart was big enough to encompass everyone. But when his younger sister looked at him, she really saw him. She wasn’t like Ryouma, who looked at him as a symbol of war and hardship and training. She wasn’t like Hinoka, who looked at him as a reminder of Corrin’s disappearance. She wasn’t like the general public, who looked at him as a shadow of the crown prince, trying but never managing to meet all expectations.

She looked at him as Takumi, proud Prince Takumi of Hoshido. Takumi, the second son of Sumeragi and Mikoto. Takumi, the genius marksman, the best archer that Hoshido had seen in a very long time. Takumi, the wielder of the Fujin Yumi, the divine weapon that chose him and him alone.

She looked at him as Takumi, her big brother, who was weighed down with his loneliness by day, and his nightmares by night. She looked at as a person and accepted him, flawed and sad and lonely and angry.

And perhaps that’s why, even though he wished Sakura had never been born into this war-stained world, he was glad that he, at the very least, had someone who viewed him as just Takumi.

* * *

_“Let’s make a deal. You stay away from me, and I’ll stay away from you. Think you can manage?”_

_“Hmph! I’m not going to let you boss me around like that! Good-bye!”_

_“Insufferable. Truly insufferable.”_

* * *

When he first met Azura, he thought she was insufferable. The way she was of few words. The way she never spoke directly, opting instead to choose her words as vaguely as possible. The way that she stared at him with those piercing eyes of hers, making it seem like she was peering into his soul.

The way his entire family, even Ryouma and Hinoka, accepted a Nohrian into their ranks so casually it was almost as if they weren’t at war in the first place. Ryouma, the dignified ruler of Hoshido, patting her on the head with a small smile on his face. Hinoka, who swore that she would stop at nothing to get her sister back, teaching Corrin’s replacement how to use a naginata.

He got scolded for his cold attitude toward her, but there was no helping that. If his siblings were willing to accept her with open arms, it fell to him to exercise a certain degree of caution. And he was no stranger to this role. He was the third child, the second prince. While Ryouma portrayed the perfect crown prince of Hoshido, it fell upon Takumi to do all the dirty work, to garner the negative attention and make his older brother more appealing to the public.

It was a role that he didn’t necessarily enjoy, but had long become accustomed to.

It wasn’t even Azura that he found insufferable. She listened to his problems without judgement, offering few words of encouragement. She never seemed to spout clichés, to tell him that everything was going to be alright. Instead, she offered small tips to get through life one step at a time, to make it through the next day. And perhaps that’s all Takumi ever needed; not for someone to tell him that nothing was wrong, but rather for someone to tell him that each day, no matter how hard it was or how tired he gets, will pass.

No, he didn’t find Azura insufferable. In fact, he grew to love her as he loved all his other siblings. He grew to love her voice, her songs, her presence. He wondered if this was what Corrin would have been like, if she hadn’t been kidnapped. He wondered if Corrin was having the exact same influence on her new Nohrian family that Azura was having on him.

What he found insufferable was what Azura’s appearance meant on his own philosophy. He grew up learning that all Nohrians were foul, evil scum that enjoyed nothing but death and destruction. Nohrians had torn his family apart, a once loving family that suddenly became no stranger to awkward dinner conversations.

But Azura was a Nohrian, and she went against all of his beliefs. His mind, which had been so centered around this belief of _Kill all Nohrians_ , started to crumble. He didn’t know who to direct his hate toward anymore, and his blind thirst for revenge slowly gave way to his insecurity. Hating on the Nohrians for destroying his family had kept him going for all those years. Now that that hate was challenged,  now that he was starting to doubt everything that he believed in, Takumi didn’t know what to do with himself.

And sitting at a dinner table, with all his siblings eating quietly around what used to be a loud and boisterous dinner table, Takumi realized that he had never felt so lost.

* * *

_“I can’t they said that to me. I have nothing in common with that imbecile! Just because Takumi and I are both royalty doesn’t mean we’re anything alike. Ugh!”_

* * *

He had always wondered if Corrin was really their sibling. She didn’t look anything alike, her hair so white and pure, her eyes red and kind. Her figure was lithe and graceful, her fingers nimble and soft as they wove their way through his hair.

(She always loved his hair. And even though he would huff and puff and roll his eyes at her, secretly he always loved it when she played with his hair too. )

She was so different that he sometimes saw her as a sibling, yet other times he saw her as a friend. While Hinoka taught him about court etiquette, Corrin taught him more worldly things. She showed him the beauty of a flower that just bloomed, the excitement of watching ants crawl over a hill, the appeal of observing ordinary things in the world around him.

She had always been his favorite sibling. A mesh of royalty and worldliness. Of someone who was a sibling, and a friend, and something more. He loved the way she always turned her nose up and sniffed indignantly when she was trying to win an argument. Or the way she puffed her cheeks out when she didn’t get her way. Or the way she smiled, bright and pure, when he picked a flower off the ground and stuck it behind her headband.

But that was so long ago, and he was but a child when she had been taken. And nowadays, Takumi couldn’t even remember what she was like anymore. He had had so many dreams about her, both good and bad, of her destruction and of her love. His dreams distorted her personality, shaping her into what she wasn’t, and what she was. His idea of her had been changed so many times in his mind, like a writer deliberating on the characterization of a certain character.

And he didn’t know which Corrin was real anymore.

* * *

_“Muttering to yourself, Prince Leon? What’s the matter, couldn’t find anyone else willing to talk to you?”_

_“You! I didn’t know you were there. Why were you eavesdropping?”_

* * *

He used to eavesdrop a lot on Ryouma when he was younger, back when he wasn’t allowed to attend the war council meetings. They always said he was too young, too unexperienced to attend such serious gatherings. Deep inside, he knew that they didn’t want to deal with the second prince, the problematic Takumi, when they already had Ryouma.

But at that time, he didn’t care about that. He would always stand outside the door, listening quietly as the council members debated about certain courses of action. He listened to Ryouma’s strong voice, firm and decisive, the way his big brother could twist his words to make anything sound appealing. He listened and he envied and he learned.

He spent nights after the war meetings scribbling down his observations and notes. He developed his critical thinking and strategic mind inside the confines of his own room. He recalled Ryouma’s decisions and wrote them down, breaking down every move to see the reason behind every action. He needed to learn, to prepare himself, so that one day he could take his proper place as the second prince of Hoshido in one of the war council meetings, to be able to help his brother and contribute to the wellbeing of the country. That was his dream as a child.

But that was nothing but a mere child’s fantasy. Now, he sat at the table in his proper spot, but he wished he was anywhere but there. Watching the council members argue about how to repel the Nohrian advances, Takumi could see the hints of desperation and frustration in the air. Even his once proud brother sat slightly hunched over, as if the weight of the war had physically tired and worn out his body.

Ever since Corrin had been taken, ever since Mikoto had died, there was a lot more hatred in the meeting rooms. Hatred that had been subdued, wounds that had been sealed, had been pried apart at full force. Discrimination and burning rage had stained the very kingdom that Mikoto had brought peace to. Even Azura had been driven out, the soldiers vowing to clean the country of everything Nohrian, and even the Hoshidan princess was not an exception.

The war council meetings were a place where Takumi could demonstrate his military prowess, one of the rare things that he excelled more than Ryouma did. With every Nohrian head he directed to be cut down, every Nohrian fortress seized, they complimented him more. Every time he won a battle, every time he killed more people, they praised him. It was behind those closed doors that he finally felt important, finally felt worthy of his title as the second prince of Hoshido.

But sometimes, laying in his bed at night, he remembers those days where he pressed as closely to those big doors as possible, trying to hear the discussions inside. He remembers being on the other side of the door as a child, on the other side of death and destruction, as just an innocent boy who wanted to prove his worth.

He was living his child fantasy now, but no amount of praise and congratulations and _worth_ could erase the blood that now stained his hands.

* * *

_“Well, it all sounded a bit too familiar. It seems that we’ll both be hearing that same joke for a while.”_

_“They’re calling us “the twins”! We can’t let them treat us this way! They’re wrong!”_

_“Of course they are! You and I couldn’t me more different!”_

* * *

Oboro had called them twins when they first met. He had blinked at her, not understanding what she meant. But over the years, he realized that perhaps he was more similar to her than he had originally thought.

He had first met Oboro in the castle courtyard at night. It had been a moonless night, and he had gone out because his nightmares had kept him up. What he once enjoyed as a child as a big and comfortable room to himself had now turned into a reminder of how isolated he was, the place turning more and more into a desolated jail cell that kept him separated from the rest of the world. It was a place where he lost himself to his thoughts, where nightmares and dark images plagued his mind. A once safe haven transformed into a living nightmare.

She had been staring into the woods, a rather sad look of longing on her face. The moon above was partially covered by the stormy clouds, casting dark shadows on her face. Her blue hair was down, falling right below her shoulders, accentuating how small her face was.

It was weird, he thought. He had received so many condolences after Corrin had been taken. _“Poor boy, he has suffered so much_ ” they had said, cooing over him and fluffing his hair in a way that reminded him too much of Corrin. He knew they were all empty words, words that others were required to say to the nobility. He didn’t want their pity. They didn’t make him feel anything.

But looking at this girl, lost in her own train of sad thought and reminiscing, Takumi realized that he felt more comforted by her presence than by any of the numerous empty words he had heard over the years. That two people, sharing the same loneliness of a broken family, healed his soul more than any hug or reassurance could.

And so he sat down next to her that quiet night in the courtyard, and together they stared at the forest, the cloudy sky, and the stormy moon.

She would tell him later that she couldn’t sleep because night like those reminded her of the night her parents were murdered. He would tell her bits and pieces of his feelings, unable to share it all; perhaps he still felt ashamed of his own thoughts, embarrassed to voice them out loud even though this girl had been so honest to him. But whether or not she knew he was withholding information—she probably knew; she always seemed to be able to tell when he wasn’t being truthful—she didn’t pry. She didn’t offer any words or any reassurances. She didn’t speak at all, in fact.

But every cloudy night, the two of them would find their way back to the castle courtyard. And there, they would huddle together for hours, staring at the gloominess of the forest, at the weird, mysterious patterns that the moon shone on it. And strangely enough, just by feeling the warmth of a human body next to him, Takumi felt a little bit of his soul heal.

She became his retainer after a couple of weeks, and she was a lot of firsts for him. The first person to devote herself entirely to him. The first person who he didn’t feel like he needed to compete with his brother for. The first person who truly understood what he was going through.

His first friend.

* * *

_“Exactly! I wouldn’t come near you with a ten-foot pole.”_

_“Twenty-foot pole!”_

_“Thirty, even!”_

* * *

When he met Hinata, the guy was holding a ten foot pole, swinging it around the training ground as if it was a sack of potatoes.

He had gone with Oboro to check out the new trainees. Usually, this was Ryouma’s job, but his older brother had been so busy with the war effort that he had volunteered. Even though he wasn’t as good as Ryouma with the sword, he _had_ been a rather proficient and capable swordsmen before he had switched over to the bow.

But of course, no one knew that because of how greatly his older brother had overshadowed him.

Takumi felt the familiar anger and annoyance bubbling inside of him, watching this brown haired samurai and his friends goof off, daring each other to lift this ten foot pole. How dare they goof off during the war, he thought to himself. While other people were out in the frontlines dying for Hoshido, these trainees spent their days laughing and fooling around, as if the world was at peace, as if death and destruction were not waiting outside the boundaries of their kingdom.

In retaliation, Takumi overworked them. He made them practice a hundred more practice swings, made them run up the hill carrying the ten foot pole that they loved so much. (The pole mysteriously disappeared after the third day of training – to this day, Takumi wasn’t sure why it had been there in the first place.)

But throughout the whole process, Hinata never stopped smiling as he swung his sword, greeting Takumi with a big, goofy grin every morning. Watching as he practiced his swings, Takumi realized that he perhaps envied Hinata’s carefree nature (he realized that he envied a lot of people these days). The way he could still be so happy and passionate about what he did, but became serious and devoted so fast on the battlefield it was like flipping a switch. Hinata was able to go through the war living two lives, one for his country and one for himself. It was a balance that Takumi always struggled to find, but was never able to.

He got along with Oboro as well. While Takumi could do no more than soothe her pain a little bit and offer his companionship, Hinata made her smile. While Takumi sat with her on quiet nights and reminisced about the past, Hinata bantered with her about thoughts of the future—how many people they were going to defeat on the battlefield, what they were going to eat for dinner, who could make their hairstyle look more like Takumi’s did.

And then, just like that, Takumi found himself with another retainer.

* * *

_“…Hey, since you’re here, may I ask you something? What’s your favorite food?”_

_“I’m sorry, but what?!”_

_“They say that people with similar personalities like the same things.”_

* * *

He visited Orochi’s tent a couple weeks after Corrin had chosen to go to Nohr instead of coming back to live with her birth family. The heartbreak, which had been slowly healing, had been instantly pried back apart. The morale in the camp was low. The hatred for Norhians was rekindled. His siblings obsessed over the war with a new determination. His mother, the peacekeeper, was _dead_. And he had discovered that the kind-hearted Corrin that he thought was real had been nothing more than a figment of his own imagination.

_Nohrian scum._

_Traitor._

Poisonous words threatened to spill from his mouth as he watched the back of Corrin, _the coward_ , flee the battlefield with her Nohrian siblings. Hinoka had sobbed next to him, murmuring about the evil Nohrians who had brainwashed her. Ryouma vowed to take her back from the corrupting influences of the other kingdom.

But Takumi knew better. It wasn’t anyone’s fault but her own. Corrin made her own decision. She had looked Ryouma straight in the eye as she told him she would be going back with her Nohrian family, the one that had murdered Mikoto. The blame fell on her, and her alone.

That’s why, Takumi thought, ignoring the pain in his chest, he would kill her. He would put an arrow through his heart the next time he saw her, for not only breaking apart their family twice and killing Mikoto.

But also for robbing him of his sister again.

“Yes?” Orochi asked, looking up from where she was hunched over reading some documents. Takumi usually avoided visiting the older woman. Her personality didn’t go well with his; she was loud, blunt and often spoke without a filter. He still remembered her teasing him at dinner, embarrassing him in front of all the other soldiers, as she brought up the teddy bear that he still clutched to every night to try to ward off his nightmares.

He knew she always meant well, but war had no place for jokes.

And nowadays, she reminded him of his mother.

But he had to visit her. So Takumi sat down in the chair next to hers, and explained his dreams. How, for the past couple of months, he would get visions of this boy with a headband, a boy with gentle and soft and honest eyes, a boy who was overshadowed by the greatness of his brother’s shadow. The boy who had offered him solace and a place for peace at night. It was strange; Takumi used to be so scared of the night. But ever since his nightmares became visions, and his daily life became a living nightmare, Takumi started appreciating the times when he could be alone in his room and pretend that there was no problem in the outside world.

Orochi listened quietly to him, the quietest he had ever heard her. And after he was done with his story, she had gone into detail about her thoughts. They were all very abstract and rather hard to understand, but her last sentence stuck in his mind.

_“Sometimes, we receive the memories of what could have happened in another life.”_

Takumi exited her tent and stared up at the cloudy sky, a rather desperate laugh escaping his mouth. Because for all the hate he fueled himself on, for all the revenge he swore and all the _Nohrian scum!_ he shouted, it couldn’t erase the warm visions of acceptance and happiness he had of himself and none other than Prince Leon of Nohr.

Because in his dreams, he could finally feel like himself. In his dreams of another world, a world where Hoshido and Nohr weren’t at war, he found peace and solace not with his family, but with the second Nohrian prince.

He didn’t know what to believe anymore.

* * *

_“I like miso soup.”_

_“Mee-so soup?”_

_“Yeah. It’s a Hoshidan dish. You got a problem with that?”_

_“No. My favorite food is beef stew. It’s kind of like a soup. Hmm…”_

* * *

He visits the kitchens a couple weeks later, after his rather embarrassing loss at Port Town of Dia. He had thought that seeing Corrin, of her traitorous figure and her little army, would erase his doubt and reaffirm his vengeance so he could go back to simply hating on the Nohrians. Life was so much easier when all he had to do was sink his arrows into the enemies’ hearts rather than think about the Nohrians he did know—Azura, Corrin, _Prince Leon of Nohr_ —and wonder if he was doing the right thing.

He pushed that thought out of his mind. There was no use doubting himself now. One hesitant move in war and you could find yourself dead. He repeated his mantra in his head. _Nohrianscumsnohrianscumsnohrianscums. Kill all Nohrians._ Something seeped into his brain, like an outside presence trying to break into his head. He pushed that out of his mind as well, but it seemed to linger on the edges, as if waiting for the right moment to strike. The very thought gave him chills.

He asked the chefs for some beef stew, knowing that they wouldn’t ask him any questions on his rather weird food choice; after all, while beef stew was a popular dish in Nohr, most Hoshidans had never heard of such a dish before. The chefs had blinked at each other, rather confused, but hunted down a recipe and set out to prepare his request for him.

A bit later, Takumi found himself back in his room, a pot of beef stew in front of him. The aroma gently caressed his nose, making his mouth water. He hesitantly raised a bowl to his mouth and took a sip. The taste was stronger than miso soup, but the stingy flavor appeased his taste buds and he found that he quite liked this beef stew that the other prince had recommended.

Staring down at his now empty bowl, Takumi briefly wondered if this Prince Leon of Nohr would have liked miso soup.

* * *

_“What kind of books do you read?”_

_“I read all kinds of things, but I have a passion for history.”_

_“Is it… because you love to study the strategy behind past battles?”_

_“Gods, don’t tell me… Do you like to read history books too?”_

_“Yes, but I’m sure our hobbies are different.”_

* * *

His second straight defeat came at Cheve, and he came back in considerably worse condition than he had after the first battle.

The first time, he had thought it was a fluke. Besides, he had been doing the conquering then, trying to take over the port. Corrin had simply defended it while the Hoshidan army exhausted their resources. In Takumi’s mind, attacking was so much harder than defending. You needed much more power, much more resources, much more military prowess. He hadn’t been happy with the loss, but he had accepted it as a sign that he needed to grow stronger.

But this… he had been in charge of the Cheve rebellion, of protecting actual people, but he had failed. He had been in charge of supporting his brother’s trusted friend, Scarlet, but he had run away and she had been killed. He had gone there to fight for his kingdom, to support their trusted allies, to maybe understand a bit more about himself through fighting with Corrin, and perhaps maybe catch a glimpse of the elusive prince that still plagued his night dreams.

But instead, he left with a massive headache, a village burned and torn to pieces, a rebellion leader dead, and even more blood stained on his hands.

He felt useless. His brother welcomed him back, telling him that it was good that he was still alive. But was it really? If Ryouma had been there, he could have easily taken down Corrin’s army. If Ryouma had been there, surely Cheve would still be the little rebellious town that it was when he first got there.

Takumi curled up on his bed, clutching his head as his heart hammered away. In the quiet of his room, each heartbeat sounded like a bomb of death and destruction and darkness. _Stupid Nohrians stupid nohrians_ , he chanted in his mind. But it didn’t help like usual. Instead, a cold hand seemed to grip his brain, squeezing it in a tight fist.

Takumi cried out, but there was no one left to hear him.

_“I will never forgive you, Corrin. I won’t rest until I kill you myself.”_

* * *

_“My favorite game is chess. It’s a tactical board game where—”_

_“In Hoshido, our version is called shogi.”_

_“And do you like to play this “_ show _-gee” thing?”_

_“I’m the best shogi player in my whole family.”_

* * *

The first time Takumi sees the object of his imagination, or as Orochi had called “visions of another life”, his first thought is that the other prince is really feminine.

His second thought is that that headband looks as ridiculous in real life as it does in his dreams.

He doesn’t get to talk to Prince Leon of Nohr. They don’t even look at each other. Instead, Takumi watches as the little girl, the girl who was with Corrin at Cheve, pulls at Leon’s hand, gesturing toward one of the plates of food. Leon rolls his eyes, but indulges her nonetheless, a small smile pulling at his face.

He reminds Takumi of himself with Sakura.

But that train of thought is quickly halted when Corrin appears before them, a look of surprise on her face. His family members, whether they realize it or not, instinctively crowd around her, just like they did when Corrin was only a child. Ryouma steps closer to her, as if doing so will prevent her from returning to the Nohrian family that she chose. Hinoka’s face is filled with such sadness and longing that Takumi almost thinks that she’s going to cry.

And Sakura just looks at the older sister that she never knew with such acceptance, her face devoid of anger. And not for the first time, Takumi can really see their mother in her, the grace and kind-heartedness he could never hope to achieve.

And as his siblings crowd around Corrin, Takumi realizes he’s been left alone in the corner again.

* * *

_“I can’t believe it. Who would have guessed we have so much in common?”_

_“I don’t know, but I’ll tell you—it’s hard to hate someone with such excellent taste!”_

_“No kidding. I was about to say the exact same thing.”_

* * *

The first thing that comes out of his mouth after he had been freed is “Quiet, you! Filthy traitors don’t get the honor of speaking so casually to Ryouma.”

In hindsight, he probably should have kept his mouth shut. But after being shut in that cage, being humiliated and having his Fujin Yumi taken away and getting manhandled before being rescued by _Nohrian royalty_ , of all people, he was not in the best of moods.

In fact, sitting in that dark cage, the silence had made him hyperaware of the negative tornado of thoughts swirling in his mind. He had tried to push them away in the very beginning, telling himself that he needed to be strong for Sakura. But after a while, the silence got too much bear for him. He sat down in his own corner, a whirlwind of loneliness and rejection and anger all invading his thoughts. It wasn’t the time to think about such things; he needed to be strong, strong for his family, strong for his country. But he couldn’t control himself. And after a while, he found that he didn’t care enough to.

“So she needs your permission to express concern?” A sigh. Takumi noticeably froze, the voice as recognizable as his own. Prince Leon of Nohr. The upturned chin. The haughty smirk. The amethyst eyes. He was just like Takumi remembered from his dreams. Takumi had to restrain himself from instinctively stepping closer to the other prince, like he had done so many times in his dreams.

“Hoshidans are the worst. I’d drop that attitude if I were you. After all, we just saved your sorry lives.”  

Takumi blinked, but he didn’t know what he had been expecting. Leon had been confident in his dreams, but never condescending. His eyes had been teasing, but never cold. His voice had been monotone, but never without remorse. This was a different Leon, a different person shaped by hatred and war and death. Had Takumi been expecting a hug? A new best friend? A validation to show that not all Nohrians were evil? Or was he simply trying to prove something to himself?

“Let me make something perfectly clear. I feel no gratitude for what you’ve done. Saving us was the natural thing to do, even for Nohrian scum,” Takumi said before he could think, aware of how childish he sounded. He and Leon bantered back and forth in his dreams, but never so cold, never with such hurtful words, never with such a large wall dividing them. Takumi felt as if he was watching the exchange from somewhere outside of his body. And as he watches Leon turn his cold, piercing eyes to him, everything just feels _so wrong_.

And when he finally leaves Izumo, with the rest of his family quiet and somber, he can’t help but feel the heartache he has learned to become accustomed to over the years, the heartache of losing someone close to you.

* * *

_“Hmmm… Maybe we should do this again sometime.”_

_“Ahaha! Oh? So now you want to be best friends?”_

_“Ha! Of course not. That will never happen.”_

_“Never!”_

* * *

The next time Takumi sees Corrin, he is on the Great Wall of Suzanoh, and he has once again taken the role of the defender. Back when he was a child, listening to Ryouma talk about their father’s brilliant conquests to drive out all evil from their kingdom, Takumi had thought that being a defender was a wonderful thing. You could be strong, so very strong, and use that power to protect those dear to you.

But standing on the top of the wall, his homeland behind him and the enemy before him, he feels like nothing more but a tired, tired general ready to meet his death.

He sees Corrin charge in, Yato blade in hand, a face full of determination as she gets ready to take down the place she once called home. And perhaps that is the last straw. He feels his anger take over him, slithering him like a snake trying to devour his body.

 _“Princess Corrin of Nohr,”_ he sneers at her, ignoring the hurt expression that crosses her face at his cold and blunt way of addressing her. His heart hurts—he never liked making her sad—but he pushes it down as thoughts of hatred and revenge invade his mind. They need to pay for what they did, for breaking up his family, for murdering his parents, for tearing apart his soul.

He chants _Nohrianscumnohrianscumnohrianscum_ in his mind until he’s not even sure his thoughts are his own anymore.

He sees Hinata, the guy with the ten foot pole. He sees his cheeky smile, his wide grin, and his playful jabs. He sees his retainer, the one who had given up his whole life in order to serve Takumi, who is loyal and skilled and everything Takumi could’ve asked for.

He sees his best friend fall at the hands of the enemy, and he can do nothing more but watch from his platform on top of the wall.

* * *

_“Did you enjoy the book I lent you?”_

_“It was fascinating! I started reading it last night and stayed up way too late!”_

_“That always happens to me!”_

* * *

He sees Oboro, the girl who had tied her hair like his own. The girl who had made his outfits, the girl who was always there to support him no matter how bad his temper got. The girl who had found him the night his mother died and comforted him in the quiet of the courtyard. He sees her scary faces as well as her happy ones. He sees her deliberate jabs, the twirl of her lance, the quirk of her lips.

He sees his first friend go down, blood seeping onto her outfit. In the back of his mind, he thinks that she’ll be very upset that her precious clothing has been stained, and he wants nothing more but to go and cradle her body. But he can’t, because he has a role to play. He has to stay where he is, to protect his post, to protect his country.

But Takumi has grown up spending all his time protecting his country. And he often wonders if the trouble, if the heartbreak, if the nights of loneliness are truly worth it.

In the back of his mind, Takumi realizes he never managed to find the people who had killed Oboro’s parents. But now it was too late.

* * *

_"Thank you so much for sharing your mee-so soup recipe with me. It turned out great!”_

_“Isn’t it good? I’m glad you liked it. Next time, you can show me how to make stew.”_

_“Of course!”_

* * *

He sees Corrin, the girl he once called his sister. The girl with the childish pout, the dainty laugh, the silky hair. He wanted nothing more but to acknowledge her as his sister, Takumi realizes. He just wanted her to come back, for their family to be restored, for his heart to heal. He wanted to get to know her better. They were both so young when she was kidnapped. He just wanted to create new memories and for her to stroke his hair like he used to.

He just wanted to call her _Sister_ one more time, but it was too late.

Takumi’s life had always been defined by a series of lateness. He was born too late, so he was constantly overshadowed by his older brother, Ryouma. He had been late to meeting Corrin the day she got kidnapped. He had been too late to save the fragments of his family, and now he was too late to save the last remaining pieces of his soul.

“I have dreamt of nothing but ending you, and now the time has come!” Takumi yells, lies piling upon lies leaving his mouth. He is aware that nothing he says is true, but he has lost control of his thoughts and his actions; perhaps he hasn’t had control over them for a long time now. “I shall cherish the sound of life leaving your body for all eternity.”

He would’ve been able to forgive himself if she had looked at him with anger, pity, _anything_. But he sees her acceptance, her determination, her resolve, and he feels himself break. She is ready to fight to the death for her cause, and he is nothing but a coward holding a bow.

Even the Fujin Yumi stopped trusting him long ago.

“There’s no turning back now... Not for me. This is all I have left.” Takumi thinks that that is the most honest thing he has said in a while.  For all the lies and hatred that he has spouted over the past couple of months, Takumi finally finds enough in him, on top of this wall protecting his homeland, to speak from his heart.

And Corrin, his sister and his friend who always seems to know what he needs the most, does him a favor and indulges him, drawing her blade as they battle.

* * *

_“…Do you think we should finally admit what’s going on here? We’re friends.”_

* * *

He falls off the wall after the battle. He sees Corrin’s widened eyes and Azura’s shocked expression. His two sister, both of which he didn’t spend enough time with. Behind them, he can see Leon with an unreadable expression on his face. But Takumi doesn’t care anymore. He is tired, _so tired_.

As he falls, he sees Ryouma, his perfect big brother. He wonders if Ryouma would be proud of him for giving up his life for the country; he did always preach “a samurai’s death” to Takumi when they were both younger. Ryouma seemed to be in love with the idea that dying was fine as long as it was honorable. Takumi wondered if he lived up to his brother’s expectations.

Or would he be disappointed, like usual, at the fact that Takumi had once again failed to protect Hoshido? Was he going to die a failure, like he always was? Was he going to die without having accomplished anything?

* * *

_“Haha! If you’d told me that a while ago, I’d have sworn up and down it wasn’t true.”_

_“But you’re right! Against all odds, you and I are buddies. Isn’t that crazy?!”_

* * *

He sees Hinoka, his strong sister. The one who had devoted her days to training in hopes of one day getting Corrin back. The one who, despite not having her very own divine weapon, trained so hard that she became so powerful.

Takumi didn’t even know if she was still alive.

* * *

_“It’s certainly unexpected. But now we have a chance to change things for good.”_

_“Our friendship may be the beginning of a lasting bond between Hoshido and Nohr.”_

* * *

He sees Mikoto, his kind-hearted mother with the gentle smile. He hears her soothing voice as he reads him bedtime stories, feels the soft fur of the teddy bear that she had given him for his third birthday. He recalls her peaceful and serene face, her optimistic attitude, her happy personality.

Some days, he can’t even remember what she looks like anymore.

* * *

_“I hope so! We’re proof that citizens from our two countries can get along!”_

_“You’ve made me realize that peace between Hoshido and Nohr may be possible after all.”_

* * *

He sees Sakura and Azura, his two sisters. While one is biological and the other is not, both of them are dear to him. Their gentle souls. Their non-judging attitudes. Their acceptance of him no matter what he did.

He wonders if Azura possesses the same determination as Corrin does, if she would be able watch her own family members die. But he couldn’t even be mad at her. He always told Sakura that Corrin was a jerk for not siding with her birth family. He couldn’t blame Azura for doing just that.

* * *

_“Perhaps. And if things go badly, we can commiserate over soup.”_

_“I’m not sure how that will help, but it will at least taste good. Haha!”_

* * *

He sees his family without the war. Of Sumeragi and Mikoto, looking proudly at their children. At Ryouma, his strong but kind hand on Takumi’s shoulder. At Hinoka, with her slightly bashful but sweet smile. At Corrin, five flowers in her hand as she gingerly places one in Takumi’s. At Sakura and her little hand enveloping his own.

And at Takumi, the proud Prince Takumi of Hoshido. A little insecure at times, but someone who tries his hardest to give his best effort and be kind to everyone around him. Someone who works hard in order to live up to his own title.

He sees a Takumi that was unobtainable in this world.

* * *

_“This won’t be easy, but we’re in it together, Leon!”_

_“That’s right. I’ve got your back, Takumi.”_

* * *

He sees a boy with blonde hair, slim fingers and amethyst eyes. He sees a chessboard and a homely fire, old texts scattered across the floor. He sees two boys huddled over a book together, excitement palpable as they flip the pages. He sees two bowls of soup, side by side.

He sees Prince Leon of Nohr, merciless and arrogant on the outside, but a bundle of insecurities just like Takumi is. He sees a tired boy who is always desperate to prove himself despite the lack of attention. He sees a mirror of himself in a darker country, crueler actions but the same soul.

And looking at the two interact, Takumi realizes that he perhaps is seeing Prince Takumi of Hoshido for the first time. Takumi without his insecurities and anger issues and sadness and blind thirst for revenge. He sees Takumi in another world, of what could have been if there was no war, if there was no hatred, if there was no evil.

_“If you weren’t at opposite sides of the war,” he remembers Corrin saying in Izumo. “I think you could’ve been great friends.”_

And then the ground swallows him up, and he sees no more.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for making it all the way down here! Please drop me a message or a comment or something because I'd love to talk to some of you about your thoughts about the game!!


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